


Dance With The Devil

by R_L_Williams



Series: Pas De Deux (Dance of two) [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Childhood Trauma, M/M, Sexual Abuse, Trauma, Underage Rape/Non-con, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-11 09:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11145996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_L_Williams/pseuds/R_L_Williams
Summary: read the tagstriggering as fuckdont hurt yourselvesread at your own riskjust one survivors take on deans youth





	Dance With The Devil

Dean sat on the bar stool next to his dad. He didn’t mind Azazel, sure dad always got way more plastered when he was around but Azazel typically left him alone, but this other guy; Alistair, had hardly taken his sickly ovular eyes off of Dean since he showed up. He kept smiling at him, he had a sickening grin. By midnight dad and Azazel were hammered they would have been singing Irish pub songs by now if they hadn’t been tossed out of this same bar 2 week ago for that very thing. The smell of alcohol, cheap cologne, cigarettes and regret had gotten to be a bit too much for Dean. He walked to the back of the bar and out the door. He stood in the clear, sharp night air, relishing the relief from the sounds of drunks running from their feelings. He walked far down the bar wall away from the dumpster and leaned his head against the cool stone. It chilled his skin slightly but he didn’t mind. His thoughts trailed off to the slice of pie he knew was waiting on the kitchen table at home…his mind wandering was disturbed by the sound of the back door opening. It was Alistair. Weirdo.   
“Whatcha doin’ out here all by yourself?” Alistair asked turning towards Dean  
“Getting some air.” Dean said not even bothering to look away from the dark star spackled night sky  
“Aren’t you cold?” he asked as he began walking towards Dean  
“No, why do you care?” Dean replied sharply   
“Your young, it’s my job to keep an eye on you” he answered, his eyes scanning up and down Deans body.  
“No that’s my parents job. You don’t have to bother with me.”   
“Oh it’s not bother at all kid.” He wasn’t staggering or slurring…he couldn’t be more than buzzed   
“Don’t call me kid” Dean said sharply   
“What can I call you?” he asked tilting his head as he stepped continuously closer to Dean   
“My name.” Dean answered sarcastically  
“Attitude…I like it.” he replied, smiling, exposing dull white teeth. Dean eye balled him uncomfortably. “I like you Dean.” He stated now standing in front of Dean  
“How, you just met me and you’ve barely talked to me”  
Dean flicked open the pocket knife he always carried with him and gripped onto it tightly. This guy made him uncomfortable and he would rather not take his chances   
“well I'm fond of your father and you seem to be quite a lot like him.” Alistair said with a shrug as he stepped ever closer. Dean soffed “at the very least, you look a lot like your dad…so handsome” Alistair cooed running the back of his hand across Deans cheek. Dean slapped it away  
“don’t fucking touch me!” at this Alistair pounced. Within seconds he had Dean pinned to the wall by his throat. Dean gasped as the air was pressed from him. He yanked the pocket knife out of his coat and thrust it towards Alistair. Alistair grabbed Deans wrist and pinned it against the wall. Squeezing it until all blood flow was cut off and Dean couldn’t hold onto the knife   
“tsk tsk tsk. Aww Dean…a pocket knife…do I scare you?” Alistair stepped even closer; Dean could feel their legs press together. “I just want to touch you Dean” Alistair ran his spindly fingers through Deans hair. “is that so bad?” he ran his hands down Deans sides, squeezing the small amount of pant line pudge that Dean had  
“get the fuck off of me.” Dean struggled and strained against the full grown man pressing him into the wall. Alistair released his hold on Deans throat long enough to grab him by the color of the shirt and slam him into the wall. Deans head bounced off the stone. He watched his vision blur.   
“So soft” Alistair ran a grimy finger across Deans pouty lower lip. Dean raised his knee sharply in a continual attempt to throw off the grinning man pinning him to the wall. Alistair caught the leg and ran his hand up Deans thigh, squeezing the widest part of Deans leg “and so strong for your age” Alistair drawled as his hands slithered around Deans hip and cupped hungrily around Deans ass, squeezing hard enough for Dean to feel his nails through his jeans “as luscious as the cheek on your pretty little face” Alistair began running his hand up the inside of Deans thigh. “quite a big boy aren’t you” he said as his hand cupped around Deans barely pubescent member. Dean gasped, he continued to fight back, frantically trying to escape the ever more loathsome clutches of the man who was now fondling Deans most personal body parts. “oh don’t fight me Dean…it will only make it worse.” Alistair said landing a punch straight to Deans diaphragm, knocking all the air from his lungs. While Dean attempted to breathe Alistair began working at the Deans belt, Dean bleary eye and out of air tried sliding, squirming and thrashing away from his captor.   
“Help!” Dean screamed his voice cracking. Alistair rewarded the SOS with a fist to the face.  
“The music in there is ear splitting do you really think anyone is going to hear you?” Alistair questioned as he worked at the buttons of Deans fly. As the last button came undone Deans pants slide down his legs and around his ankles.  
“help, somebody, please,!” Alistair landed another blow directly to Deans nose. As he did Dean felt and heard a sickening crack, as blood started to run down his face. Alistair fished a knife from his own pocket and used it to cut a small incision in Deans boxers. Alistair slid the knife back in his pocket and then proceeded to tear the boxers completely off of Dean with his bare hands.  
“help! Anyone, please somebody help me!” Dean begged between ragged sobs. At this last splitting cry Alistair took the boxers he had balled up in his hand and shoved them in Deans mouth. Inches from choking him  
“Aww Dean,…no ones coming to save you…your dad didn’t even notice you left.” Alistair leaned in, his hot sticky breath condensing on Deans ear lobe. “you all mine handsome. Now how should we pass the time…?” He whispered as his tongue lapped at Deans ear, Dean jerked away as tears began to stream down his bruised and blood stained face. Alistair chuckled wickedly in his throat. his other hand disappeared for a moment as Dean writhed and kicked and tried to scream. The lack of air was making him light headed and the pain of his cracked nose was reverberating through his entire head. Through his attempts at escape Dean could hear the unmistakable sound of a belt being undone and of pants sliding down skin. Deans crying intensified to a near manic level. “ohhh Dean I love what fear dose to your eyes. So helpless, really brings out the green.” Alistair ran his fingers through the mixture of blood and tears that were painting dears terrified face. “why thank you Dean…I can use this…”Alistair said as he ran the mixture in between Deans legs and all along the rim of Deans hole. Dean began fighting with whatever strength he had left, trying to scream through the cloth that was nearly cutting off his remaining access to air. Alistair cupped his hand under Deans gushing nose and desperate eyes. Collecting a concoction of blood and tears, His hand disappeared again and Dean heard his slick hand sliding up and down flesh. “it always handy when you don’t have to use lube” Alistair smirked. Dean felt Alistairs prick line up with his hole. Now even the boxers could barely contain his sobbing cries “ohh...I love it when you make such pretty noises for me Dean.” Alistair said as he shoved his entire length deep inside Dean with unforgiving force. Deans scream would have been ear shattering without the boxers to deafen it. Alistair began his harsh and horribly rhythmic thrusts. Stabbing Deans pubescent prostate with every move. The blood and tears began to soak into the cloth shoved into Deans mouth. The taste was nauseating. Alistair grunted and panted like an animal humping their favorite bitch. Dean could barely get air, he couldn’t feel his legs, he couldn’t see through the tears but he never stopped screaming. His own blood and tears began to trickle down his throat. At that moment…the back door creaked open. It was a bar employee out for a smoke break. Dean screamed and writhed with everything he had left. The bar attendant looked over towards the horrifying noise. Her brown eyes snapped wide open with utter terror. “go back inside and keep your mouth shut you stupid bitch or your next.” Alistair growled, never ceasing in his sadistic thrusts. The woman staggered backwards and mouthed a heart shattering “I'm so sorry” at Dean as she crept back into bar. Dean has never screamed that hard in his life. Alistair back handed him. “quiet! Or ill quite being gentle” Dean sobbed in total agony, continuing his glass shattering cries “I warned you my handsome little toy” As Alistair began thrusting into Dean with animalistic speed and force the searing heat of Deans flesh tearing intensified to a nerve devastating level. Dean had no more tears left in his body. He just shook with waterless cries as Alistairs now throbbing cock stabbed Dean with every breath. Alistair began grunting and growling gutturally low in his chest. He took his free hand and twisted it into Deans hair as he landed a few more violently hard and deep thrusts into Deans now torn and bleeding hole. Dean felt as Alistairs hot seed shot deep into his body, the salt in his cum burning the myriad of lacerations Alistair had inflicted upon his previously virginal orifice. Alistair held Dean to the wall by his throat as he rode out the last jabs of his orgasm. “mmmm such a good boy Dean, such a beautiful, beautiful boy.” Alistair whispered with nauseating sincerity as he ran his tongue up the side of Deans face drinking in the blend of tears and blood. Alistair finally slid out of Dean and released his hold on Deans throat. Dean slid down the wall with lifeless weight. “you tell anyone…ill make you sweet faced baby brother my bitch as well.” And without another word Alistair pulled up his pants, refastened his belt, checked himself for blood or other fluids, shrugged and walked inside. Dean fell to his knees. Shaking like a scared animal. Every. Single. Inch. Of his body throbbed with searing, bone rattling pain. He pulled the boxers from out of his mouth with shaking hands so weak he could barely grasp the tear and blood sodden fabric. He lay there on the frigid, damp ground for a moment, His brain unable to process anything. After a few moments he tried to stand. It took him three tries and three times of collapsing to the ground in a sniveling mess before he managed to get his feet under him. As he did he felt and then saw a stream of blood and cum trickle its way down the inside of his leg. He slid his pants back up and numbly refastened his belt. He staggered over to the dumpster and tossed his boxers in. It’s not like they were usable anymore. He stumbled back into the bar and into the bathroom. Getting a look at himself in the mirror. He started into his own eyes for a moment unable to recognize the bloody wet faced mess before him. He whetted a paper towel and wiped off as much of the blood and tears as he could. He took off his shirt and put it on backwards so no blood was showing on his clothes. He took a small piece of paper towel and slid it into his leaking shattered nose. He lumbered dazedly back into the bar and looked around for his dad and Azazel. They were nowhere to be found. Dean went back into the bathroom and checked the stalls. No one was in there. He dragged himself to the front porch, each step sending a fresh stab of pain through his core. They weren’t out there, he scanned the parking lot. The car was gone. His dad had left him…his dad had totally forgotten about him. Dean stood there, utterly without any idea of what to do. He had another mans bodily fluids soaking into his socks and his drunken father had left with the car. He couldn’t call the police…they would ask too many questions. He couldn’t call his mother she would get so mad at dad and dean couldn’t stand to see them fight anymore. He had no money for a cab…he had one real option…walking. Each step was excruciating, his broken nose made it impossible to breath and his head throbbed. The lacerations lining his insides burned like someone had just given him an acid enema. He knew he had scratches and bruises on his back though he handn't bothered to check. His house was at least 4 miles away…this was going to be a long night.


End file.
